Stuckytastic!
by The Last Kitten
Summary: This will be a collection of short stories about my Captain America OTP. Every category, from Supernatural to Humor will be covered, because yoga makes one flexible. Please assume any and all chapters of anything I write is rated M, and that any and all trigger warnings that can apply do apply.
1. Chapter 1

Note: Koooonichiwa! This is a Stucky fic plain and simple. Please assume any and all chapters of anything I write is rated M, although this story would be considered K/T, and that any and all trigger warnings that can apply do apply. I do not own anything even remotely Marvel, and my student loans still have a tight grip on my juavos, so I has no money. Sue me and I will fart in your general direction.

I will also be posting this and all of my other stories on my blog. It's being overhauled at the moment, so I'll be posting the link soon.

Thank you for reading and enjoy! \=^.^=/

ooooo

The knocking could no longer be ignored.

Steve groaned into his pillow as he rolled and began to kick the blankets from his legs.

He stumbled in the dark towards the door, clicking on the kitchen light and picking up the pace when he heard his name being whisper yelled through the mail slot.

"Steve! Steeeeeeve! Open up you runt," James slurred.

"Shhhh," Steve chided as he unlocked the door. "What the hell are you doing here, it's 1 AM, my neighbors are gonna kill…." The shorter man fell silent as his best friend brushed past him to pace in his small living room.

His breath came out in pants as if he'd been running, and his hands ran through his hair but stopped to rest on the back of his head. "I was with the girls and I had a _lot_ to drink...and I started thinking...I couldn't stop thinking, this is it." His hands fell to his hips as he continued his speech with his back to Steve. "This is it, tomorrow I'm gonna be shipped of to the front lines and…." He stopped and hung his head. "I don't know if I'm coming back."

Steve stepped forward to rest a small hand on his shoulder. "You'll be back Buck, you're too stupid to die." Steve stepped around him and smiled up at sad frightened eyes, as his hand moved to cover James's heart. "You'll come back," he whispered.

James covered the hand with his own and closed his eyes. "I need to tell you something...and I don't know how to say it, or what you're gonna think of me once I tell you." He squeezed both Steve's hand and his eyes shut. "But I can't go off, possibly to my death, without saying this at least once." Steve took a step closer and James opened his eyes to meet his friend's concerned gaze.

" _I...I…," the soldier swallowed, and chuckled causing a bright albeit sleepy smile to erupt onto Steve's face. "Ah screw it," James was moving before his mind had given the command and he could hear Steve's sharp intake of breath when their lips met._

 _He didn't know when he'd gathered the blond to him, but the smaller man softened into his arms, turning his head just slightly for the angle sake._

 _James pulled back several moments later to gaze at the pinkened kiss swollen lips and smiled._

" _I love you Steve Rodgers," Steve's eyes remained closed, James's heat was incandescent in his chilly den._

" _I…," Steve's words were cut short as a blast sent him flying into a nearby wall. He could hear the roar of a train and the charging of a weapon._

" _No...no...nonononono," Steve began to chant. "Not again!"_

 _The metal bar supporting Bucky gave way and his screams echoed off the canyon walls._

"Bucky! No!," Steve yelled as he sprang up thrashing and gasping in bed.

Three months after being released from the hospital and the nightmares had returned full force. His face was wet with tears and sweat, and his breath hitched in a way it hadn't in over seventy years. He grabbed his chest, unable to control his breathing, and suddenly his inhaler was in his hand and a firm hand was rubbing light circles on his back.

Taking a deep drag from his inhaler Steve looked up at the person sitting almost nose to nose with him.

Bucky.

Unbidden and immediate, Steve couldn't control his tears, and in the end Bucky settled along side him on the spacious bed. Steve clung to the soldier like a lost child, and James held him quietly, the tightness of his embrace betraying his calm.

They lay in silence until James shifted, waking Steve immediately, and his half asleep voice stilled the Winter Soldier.

"Please stay...please...Bucky…."

The dark haired man looked down at him. A thousand obvious objections were evident in his eyes.

'This apartment is probably bugged three times over, their are probably multiple satellites fixing on my location, I'm a homicidal maniac with orders to kill you on sight', his mental list went on.

James's body once again moved of it's own accord. His jacket was shrugged off and his shoes removed before settling back down with the captain wrapped, his back to the commando's front, in his arms.

They'd slept like this a thousand times, years ago, when death and war didn't fill their dreams; the drumming of Bucky's heart lulling Steve to sleep.

The day his mother died they'd spent the entire day in bed together, rising only when Bucky insisted they eat. He'd curled into the larger boy and soaked his pillow through with tears.

Now James was his anchor. The only thing making the world real, the present and the past colliding into an eye that gave them at least a short reprieve from their fates. Steve knew that without him he'd float away, only to fall in a way that he would not come back from. They were the same now, living relics, the first and last of their kind.

For James, with all the uncertainty of who to trust, who he is, who he was, and who he's been fighting for for the last seventy years, there was only one thing he was certain of.

Spending one night with this man in his arms was worth the potential of being caught by any number of the dozens of organizations he'd been leant out to in the last half century.

ooooo

Note: 0_0 This will probably be a collection of short Stucky drabbles...I can't/reeeeally should **not** start another multi chapter story right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: *IMPORTANT* This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence, Non Con / Dub Con sexual situations, and PTSD.

AN2: -_- I edited this chapter until I wanted to punch it in the face. It was in my head and I had to get it out. It's a shitty situation and millions of people find themselves in the grey everyday.

Thank you for reading this!

A Cold Spring: Part 1

The tall grass bent, first with the breeze, then with the passing caress of five long pale fingers.

The evening sun set the field ablaze with orange and gold as dusk approached.

The moon was early in its journey across the heavens, and it glowed, a white stencil against the dozing sky.

Alone a young man stood. This was the place and there wasn't much time.

Quickly he set down his easel and pulled his paints from the cloth bag that lay across his chest, his brush moving swiftly across the canvas seeking the brilliance of the scene before him.

The speckling of trees at his back russelled in the summer breeze, and a smudge of tangerine could be seen across his brow as sandy hair caught in his long lashes.

His tunic revealed his thin frame as the wind hugged him, and a sudden gust drowned out all other sounds around him.

He neither heard nor saw the men approaching, their horses whining from the hard ride.

It wasn't until a large shadow fell across his canvas that the blond's hand ceased. He swallowed and took a deep breath, turning to address the goliath now standing before him.

"Good evening gentlemen," the smaller man looked from the man standing in front of him to his companion a few feet behind. "If you're looking for Athans it's about a hundred miles that a way." The joke hung in the air, flat, for several moments before the first man gave in to a deep hartie laugh.

"It seems that fate has smiled on us," he turned to his companion. "Just as our journey begins to take its toll," he turned back to the painter. "We seem to have come across a flower in a field of weeds."

The man's eyes widened, "I assure you, sir, I am no flower!" A terrible blush flooded his cheeks, "I mean I...my "flower" is um…." He snapped his mouth shut, regretting everything from his breakfast to his willfulness in refusing to take his guards and servants with him to his summer home.

The men both laughed, the second man shaking his hood covered head, still atop his horse. His large cape was a rich brown, covering black robes with a vibrant azure blue sash, and the polished gleaming blade at his side clearly warned of danger. His bearing was noble, but the ware of his clothes spoke of a life on the road. His boots were muddy and his one visible june blue eye was almost mischievous as it watched the artist. The other man was simply a bear, large everywhere, and the pelt over his shoulder gave him an air of authority. An almost muddy blond, the man had a square jaw with hard chiseled not wholly unflattering features, 'Germanic maybe', Stephanos guessed to himself.

The ogre reached out a leather bound hand in a slow swipe across the smaller man's cheek, and it was swatted away boldly.

"I am Stephanos, eldest son of the Genua regent magistrate." The young man had found an authority of his own. His voice was deep and clear as he spoke, "You will leave my sight and make your way, with _haste_ , from my city."

The wider man nodded and smiled as he turned to his second, "Beagán, I'm wounded."

The dark figure smirked but began to look uneasy, he could smell the blood before it was spilt, and his horse wondered a few paces closer.

"We have miles to ride yet, let us continue. There are well groomed, well _fed_ , boys in the city."

"I am no _boy_ ," the nobleman's son began, only to have the words smacked from his lips by the back of the brut's gloved hand.

Beagán grabbed his companion's wrist and met his eyes as he prepared to go after the much smaller man. "Giomer we don't have time for this. Nobel or not he's frale, leave him be."

"Bah, you're too soft hearted! I've been insulted my friend. This skinny whelp thinks himself better than me. And he's right…." He turned to look down at the stunned man holding his already bruising cheek. "I've always liked nobleman's sons," he knelt pulling his arm free. "They're pampered from birth, washed daily and stroked with oils that make the skin soft…." Giomer took hold of Stephanos's jaws with one strong paw of a hand. "I'm certain he has a soft untouched rump in need of a firm hand."

The young man's eyes widened as he was roughly held against dusty lips.

His left hand pushed at the foreigner's chest, but his right felt behind him.

A moment later the bear was blindsided by the flying side of a hefty wooden easel.

It crashed into him and by the time Beagán was able to stem his laughter Stephanos was halfway across the field.

"He's spirited! I like him. Let him go," he smiled down at the fuming blond who pointed after the little painter.

"If you don't get him under control, I _will_ kill him outright. Remember we still have a mission to complete and if he opens that pretty mouth to anyone we'll have failed before we start," he replied calmly.

Beagán cursed under his breath, "and who's fault would that _really_ be...old friend?" He spurred his horse after the figure fleeing into the distance.

His ears could only process the wheezing of his lungs as he ran, and he was only a few yards from the heavy wooden door of his home when he tripped over his own desperate feet. His thin white tunic was ruined but the mud he'd landed in softened the fall and he was on his feet again in seconds, but the men's horses were faster.

Beagán blocked his path and Giomer blocked his retreat, dismounting in one fluid motion.

Stephanos raised his bony fists but the larger man swung, hitting him in the shoulder and knocking him off his feet.

He cried out as he hit the dirt, hard, his whole arm on fire, before immediately being snached up by said arm and backhanded.

"Play nice little one, or…."

Stephanos's foot kicked out naling Giomer in the groin and he howled, releasing the artist to grab his aching manhood.

The smaller man dove into the brush picking up a large stick, "I could do this all day," he laughed, blood now dripping off his chin to further stain his tunic.

"Beagán," Giomer roared, and the snickering man dismounted.

Lifting his hands and pushing back his hood he spoke through a small smile in a steady voice. "Hey now, calm down."

He glanced at his comrade, still trying to calm his laughter. "We seem to have found ourselves at an impasse...but I think I have a solution."

"You're trespassing on my land, and your _friend_ has made his intentions very clear!" Stephanos raised his voice, brandishing his weapon.

"Yea," the rogue chuckled. "Giomer is no gentlemen. But both we and our horses are very tired. I give you my word, let us rest a while in your home and as the sun rises we'll put you at our backs."

Stephanos tried to listen, he really did, but the pink bow of Beagán's lips was terribly distracting.

"I am no fool," Stephanos pointed his branch towards the smirking taller man. "I know men like him, his word is worth less than the sweat off his horse."

Beagán sent a quick glare at Giomer as he addressed Stephanos. "You're right!" The slav clapped his hands together with a smile. "This blaggard has no sense of honor, his word is worth about what a pig could spit. But Giomer is going to keep his hands to himself...as long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

Stephanos's stared at the dark haired man in front of him.

"And," he exclaimed holding up a finger and taking a cautious step forward. "I said I'd give you _my_ word. You can trust me...well more than him." He inclined his head at the human tree standing behind him.

Slowly the blond's stance calmed after realizing his lack of options, and he squarely met the brunette's eyes, taking a fearless step forward. "Just know that I will defend myself if I have to."

The wrathe smiled, "I'd expect no less of any mortal creature. And I intend to see that you do not have to."

An hour later saw the two men having picked out their respective rooms and Stephanos whipped clean and changed into linens devoid of blood and dirt. His arm and lip had begun to swell where Giomer struck him and he wrapped his arm tight with a clean length of cotton, he'd apply something cold later.

Exiting his room, Stephanos was far from pleased to see that Giomer had chosen the room closest to his own.

When food was demanded the thin man began picking herbs and vegetables from his small garden, but suddenly he could feel a heat far too close to his back and a voice that demanded meat directly in his ear. The Roman shoved past his unwelcome house guest, "It's late and plucking a chicken would take all night," he pointed. "There are dried meats in the pantry…".

"I have no taste for chickens little one. Beagán," the largest of the men yelled. The dark haired man appeared a few moments later, lighter, after removing his heavy cloak. Stephanos's brows rose taking in his scruffy but stunning features. His hair fell in waves on his shoulders, and his eyes seemed to shimmer as they caught the candlelight. The shadow across his chin was handsome but openly staring at him Stephanos thought it aged him. He seemed younger than the image he presented.

"I want fresh meat, do you recall the deer we passed a few hours ago?"

Beagán narrowed his eyes, "I'm tired," his gaze flickered to Stephanos, who immediately averted his eyes. "If you want _fresh_ meat you're going to have to go catch it yourself."

Giomer turned back to Stephanos, taking a long sniff, "Beagán a word."

He was striding from the kitchen before either man could protest and Beagán left Stephanos with a small smile as he followed, adjusting the knife in his gauntlet.

The moment he stepped through the door he was grabbed and slammed into a wall.

"What in the name of Tyr do you think you're doing!"

The words came out in an angry hiss and the raven took a deep breath after having the wind knocked out of him.

"You've never interfered with my amusements before," he brought their faces nearly nose to nose to better look him in the eye. "Why now? Hum?" Giomer surveyed the clear summer night sky. "He's…." He looked to his partner with an epiphany and a smile, "Ripe."

Beagán's shock was clear and, with more strength than he'd intended, he punched Giomer squarely in the gut.

The mammoth of a man dropped to his knees, a hand where the hit had landed.

"You will not touch him." The outlaw narrowed glowing blue eyes, "He is mine."

Giomer slowly got to his feet and when he stood his full height he grinned down at his partner. "Good," he coughed, "good. Because if you don't pluck that flower…." He let the threat stand before clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder and returning inside.

Beagán closed his eyes trying to dim their glow. Their partnership had been a violent, 'love', affair that neither would have the power to walk away from until death came to claim at least one of them.

Stephanos looked up from the three plates he'd prepared and frowned at Giomer's smirk when he and Beagán entered the tricinium, plopping down amongst the cushions.

"I put the dried meat in there, should make it a bit more filling," he addressed Beagán.

"Thank you Stephanos," Giomer supplied with a gallant hand gesture.

Stephanos looked back and forth between the two, clearly suspicious.

Beagán offered a small nod in thanks, fidgeting slightly with a tug to his ear and the artist started, dropping his pita directly into his little bowl of salted olive oil. There was a thick piece of polished wood sticking through the bottom lobe of the brunette's ear and strange blue markings down the side of his neck.

The marauders laughed with their mouths full when they realized what caused the reaction.

The rest of their meal was spent in silence, until Stephanos stood to collect their plates.

Giomer's offer to, "tidy up", gave the young man pause.

The bear nodded towards Beagán, who seemed content to inspect the wall, and the vernal man wandered closer to the more sane of his two house guest.

"What is he doing?"

"Stephanos I need to um...speak with you...alone."

The blond's expression could only be called confused.

"What in Mars's na…."

Beagán took hold of his uninjured arm pulling him toward the master bedroom and immediately the smaller man began to struggle.

"Liar! You gave me your word," Stephanos shouted as the hunter lifted his flailing figure over his shoulder, slamming and latching the door behind him as they entered the large room.

"Put me down," his defiant captive yelled and Beagán compiled.

They stared at each other for a moment, the roman panting, before the slav turned to rest his dark head against the wooden door with a thunk and a sigh. He hadn't thought his words to Giomer through.

'Note to self... _think_ ,' he thought to himself.

A sudden shift in the air was his only warning as he spun just in time to catch the knife Stephanos meant to plunge into his back.

Beagán caught his thin wrists, spinning him till his back was pressed against the slav's wide front. He pulled the knife from Stephanos's hand and wrapped an arm around his slim waist, lifting him off the ground while his other hand sought control around the smaller man's slender neck. "Calm yourself," he whispered against his ear. "I mean you no harm, but we must speak."

Stephanos's struggles began to slow, and Beagán loosened his grip in good faith, but when the man's body began to go slack and he heard quiet raspy breaths he set him down, turning him around in his arms.

Stephanos was ashen, his eyes half lidded, and he'd broken out in a cold sweat.

"Look at me...Stephanos...look at me! Look into my eyes," Beagán panicked, sinking to the floor and taking the blond's face in his hands, pulling him close to speak nearly against his lips. "Breathe," he whispered, "...Steph look at me...be calm."

Slowly Beagán inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth, urging Stephanos to copy him, a firm hand at his back holding him to his chest.

A cooling sensation sent a shiver down the smaller man's spine as Beagán stroked his cheek, breathing out as Stephanos breathed in.

Through his tunic the blond could feel the worried pace of the wildling's heart and he swooned, slumping forward, closing his eyes as the stranger rubbed his back.

The silence stretched on for a few more peaceful minutes before, "Giomer...is a hero," Beagán began. "I've seen that man face horrors that no one should ever know. He's saved countless lives," he shook his head. "But he's cursed with a sickness of the mind, a predation...that he sometimes can not control."

Stephanos sat back on his knees to meet the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, his thin arms keeping them apart, "You seem like a man of reason, why, why do you follow him?"

Beagán searched his eyes, pained. "I can not leave his side."

Stephanos recognized that look. It was the look of a man without choice, a man forced to live by another's rule. He'd seen enough soldiers and slaves being shipped off on Cezar's endless military campaigns to know that look; Rome was fat with the spoils of war. Even so, he would not concede without a fight.

"Then you're no better than him." He tried to pull away but the intruder held fast.

"He is what he is...as am I…," he let go and the blond scooted back several feet. "As are you."

"And what does that mean," Stephanos sneared.

The rogue sighed and stood. "You have but two paths before you," he held up a hand to Stephanos's protests. "You don't know Giomer. He's fixed on you. Were I to knock him out and give you three days head start, he would hunt you down and he would find you." He looked towards the door, "and he may take your life out of spite." He met his bedmate's eyes, "The only way he will leave you be is if I…" Stephanos's frown deepened. "Lay my claim, so to speak. I'm not proud of it, I prefer my partners to be willing, but one of us will warm your bed this night, and I leave it entirely up to you to decide which of us that will be."

This deceptively gentle warrior seemed by far the lesser of the two evils he'd found himself facing and Stephanos slowly nodded his surrender.

The painter stood, his eyes lingering on the large open window on the far wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've never um…," he sniffed wiping a defiant tear threatening to fall. "I mean, I've read tomes but…."

"It's okay." Beagán offered a small smile, taking a step forward. "You know, there are many ways to pleasure a man," he held out a hand.

Stephanos inhaled, holding the breath for a moment, before slowly letting it out and hesitantly laying soft slender fingers in the sword calloused hand before hm.

The moon hung heavy and full outside their wide window, shining down a silver light that gave the warrior's skin a soft luminescence.

"And not all of them will take your pride."

Stephanos looked up at the man before him, his eyes questioning.

Beagán walked them over to the large bed and sat, the painter looking terrified despite his bravery.

"I have...magic...of sorts," he began, quickly undoing his boots and shucking them off. He gave an awkward sniff as he wiggled his toes before meeting Stephanos's eyes with mirth.

Stephanos staired, "what do you mean?"

"It's a long story but…," the raven looked down at their joined hands as he slowly stroked the shapely digits. "We don't have to um...physically…."

"Beagán, I don't understand," Stephanos ducked his head trying to catch his eye.

"It's easier if I just show you. May I, I promise I won't hurt you?"

Stephanos looked around the dark room. There was nowhere to escape to. Even if he managed to flee from Beagán he'd never out run Giomer, not on foot.

His consent was a simple nod, both sad and angry, his eyes shiny.

Beagán's fingers gently lifted the painters chin to look him in the eyes for a moment before both pair slid shut as they leaned in. A full body shiver racked Stephanos at the first light brush of lips, and with the further tilt of his head he unthinkingly accepted the silky tongue that stroked his own.

He started and pulled away at the sensation, covering his mouth with a strawberry colored blush.

Beagán laughed quietly. "Was that your first kiss," he teased.

"Shut up...jerk," he grumbled.

"Have you really never…," now it was the warrior's turn to fret. "Never known another's touch," he asked as delicately as he knew how.

"As you said I'm, I mean, I _look_ frale," Stephanos emphasized his earlier words but kept his chin high, though he couldn't quite quell his blush.

"I'm sorry, I only meant to dissuade Giomer."

Stephanos nodded with a clench of his jaw. "I know." He scoffed. "Giomer's the only person who's ever really shown me any interest." He shook his head with a frown, "Asclepius's beard, that's a twisting of the fates."

Beagán chuckled and kept his voice low, "he's probably listening through the door," he looked over at the bolted entrance. "Damnedable pervert."

"Can't I just...pretend….," the younger man tried.

"He'll know Stephanos. I have to...mark you...sent you," the rogue shook his head before using a finger to face frightened dodger blue (5) eyes. "You have _my_ word that no harm will come to you this night."

The politician's son knew that this "choice" was an illusion.

An illusion that brought fear the nearest it had ever been to his very soul.

But the man before him met his eyes squarely, with honesty.

He also couldn't help a strange feeling of familiarity with the blaggard. His eyes, his lips, they beckoned to him, like an old friend waving from shore as he set sail.

"How can I trust you," Stephanos whispered, letting himself be pulled closer. "I don't know you," the hands between them offered no resistance.

"You will…." Beagán breathed quietly, kissing him slowly until the artist picked up the rhythm.

Stephanos let out a soft gasp as large hands pulled him into the rogue's lap while Beagán's downy lips fell to his creamy throat.

So lost in sensation the noble didn't register the fingers slowly sliding up the outside of his thigh, beneath his thin cotton tunic, until he felt a firm squeeze on his backside.

Stephanos jerked away from those wanton lips with wide eyes. "Wha...what are you doing," he sputtered. "You said...you said we didn't have to…."

"I know, I'm sorry, I...I just wanted to touch you," Beagán spoke softly against his lips, chasing after the soft pink pout.

Stephanos humed, fisting his small hands in the leather of his conqueror's tunic, "Um...shouldn't you...take off your…," he floundered between kisses.

"Oh, well I…," Beagán looked down at his outerwear.

"I'll help," the artist nimble fingers slowly began loosening the binding of his outer leathers. "So...what um...what brings you to Rome?"

Beagán smiled patiently but didn't answer, it was his job to make sure people like Stephanos never knew about the world that ran aside their own. He also knew a play for time when he saw it. He'd seen Giomer's victims employ all manner of stalling techniques in their travels. And it made him sick. So when the nomad was finally divested of his tunic he began to scoot back.

"Come," he motioned for the smaller man to follow him further back onto the spacious bed until his back rested against the wall.

Stephanos followed until he knelt next to him waiting, shaking slightly, but his worry was momentarily set aside as Beagán settled him across his lap.

Straddling the larger man Stephanos stared down at him in surprise. "I gave you my word," he said in reply to the unspoken question.

Beagán's thumb gently traced the dark bruise on the artist's cheek, frowning, before briefly tracing kiss swollen lips and meeting his eyes. "You are so beautiful."

Stephanos was sure that even in the moonlight he was beet red. No one, save for his mother, had ever called him beautiful. Spending the majority of his youth small and sickly he'd grown accustomed to being a superfluous fixture at his father's banquets, both women and men passing him over.

And now.

Now, to be so sincerely complimented by this sweet lipped fiend, it was just confusing.

He didn't realize his tears had returned until the brunette was wiping them away.

"Don't think," Beagán pressed the ghost of a kiss to his lips. "Just for tonight," again. "Don't think," he whispered.

Stephanos hands found a perch on the wanderer's shoulders and, eyes closed, he didn't notice the faint blue glow beginning beneath the slav's pale skin.

He shivered as Beagán's fingers swept up his arms leaving a tingling trail that set his nerves on fire, and he couldn't help but arch forward into him when the digits stroked down his back.

Each caress left a smudge of light across the artist's skin, but the glow dulled to fast for him to see.

His heart began to pound as Beagán's hot breath accompanied his tongue to lick a slow swipe across his pulse, and Stephanos couldn't stop the breathy moan that escaped as he tangled his fingers in the feathery dark hair.

Outside their door Giomer squeezed the large bulge beneath his robes.

'This isn't over,' he thought, narrowing his eyes.

Lost in sensation, Stephanos bucked hard against the warrior providing much needed, but not enough, friction.

Beagán's left hand fell to squeeze the roman's hip, while the mischievous fingers of his right untied the sash that held his robes together. Before Stephanos could react to the cool night air Beagán's magical tongue laved against one hardened pink nipple and

the smaller man cried out, covering his mouth with his hands. He stared wide eyed at the smirking slav, who only pulled his hands away to slide them into his dark hair. He kissed the words from the roman's lips and focused the glow in the tips of his fingers.

The noble began to pant, his short nails scratching at the raven's scalp as his neglected nipple was caressed, and Beagán moaned into his mouth as the painter bucked again.

"Steph don't," the wolf broke their kiss to take a deep breath, resting their foreheads together.

"What's wrong," Stephanos breathed heavily against his lips a moment later.

'Restraint', the beast reminded himself, lightly scraping the shadow of his beard against the blond's neck.

"Mmm nothing," Beagán tried valiantly to keep the hunger from his voice, nibbling his virtuous partner's ear.

Battle rough hands splayed along the artist's thin ribs, gliding along his soft skin until they once again gripped the round globes of his backside.

"Let go," Beagán whispered, using his energy to push the shivering Roman over the edge. He bit down lightly on the artist lower neck listening to Stephanos's heavy uncontrollable moans.

Sometime later the rogue cleared his throat, "Now then, that wasn't so ba…." His words died on his tongue as he felt the smaller man's shoulders shaking.

"Stephanos," Beagán pushed him back to arm's length. "I...I'm sorry."

As he began to move his host to the side small hands caught in the chest of his shirt.

"No...please," wide eyes glanced between Beagán and the door. "Please stay."

The dark haired man took a deep breath before turning back to wipe at Stephanos's wet face with his sleeve. "I wasn't going to leave, he's probably still near the door." His eyes avoided the anxious blond's eyes as he spoke, "I was just going to sleep on the floor."

"You didn't hurt me," Stephanos began in a rush. "Today...today's just been a lot."

Beagán nodded before pulling off his long sleeved tunic to clean the painters sticky belly, positioning himself along the bed next to Stephanos who laid nearly on top of him in his closeness, hiding his pink face in his neck.

The larger man pulled the light leniens up to cover them as he incircled the smaller in his arms, resting his chin above the yellow locks.

With the press of his body Stephanos could feel what surely had to be an aching erection.

He pulled away a bit before he spoke, meeting Beagán's eyes, "Um...do you want me to." He reached down to lightly cup the bulge but his hand was quickly grabbed and held away.

"No, it's alright," the man was clearly trying hard to control his desire, a definite struggle in his eyes with their words ghosting across the other's lips.

Stephanos began to doubt his own sanity when his whisper escaped, "please...I...I want to." He leaned forward with a timid kiss, slipping his hand free to stroke the rogue through his breeches. Beagán's breath hitched and his hand came to rest against Stephanos's cheek as soft slender fingers pulled loose the knot on his pants and slipped inside.

He groaned into his mouth at the firm grip, bucking into the artist's fist, slowly sliding their tongues together.

Stephanos had no idea what to do so he did what felt good when he occasionally indulged his labido.

The pressure in Beagán's loins built quickly with the twist of Stephanos's wrist, and he shuddered, gasping with surprise as the pleasure crested, the shorter man's lips warming his adam's apple.

He chuckled as he panted, looking down just in time to see Stephanos tentatively lick some of his seed from his finger. When he met curious eyes he smiled and pulled his thin shift off. "Not so bad is it," he winked.

The painter hummed his reply before Beagán used his shirt to wipe them both clean, tossing it to the floor alongside his tunic and pulling him close.

Their proximity tangled their legs together and both men were asleep within minutes.

ooo

The sky had barely began to lighten when Beagán slipped from Stephanos's bed, pulling the covers up to guard the thin man against the chill of dawn.

He shut the door silently wearing only his leather vest and britches, and as he turned he nearly bumped noses with Giomer, who immediately sniffed him down, his nose shoved against his neck hair and chest.

"I assume you want to leave before the whelp wakes." In all the time he'd known him, Giomer rarely asked a question he knew the answer to.

"Yes," the slightly more honorable of the two replied, standing straighter and meeting his gaze.

Giomer turned from him only to sit, propping his muddy boots up on the table. "You know, this place is really growing on me." He looked around and smiled up at his companion. "It's self contained...I mean, why spend the coin when we can eat for free here?"

"No," Beagán whispered fiercely. "I know what you're doing and we are not staying here!" The wolf approached the bear swiftly with a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I have laid my claim. You would not dare!"

The blond watched the colors shift in his companion's eyes, "I'm going to call your bluff." A grin was slowly spreading across his face and he stood so fast that Beagán took a step back. He took hold of the blue eyed man's jaw and swiped a rough tongue across his lips. "What happened? Did the mouse defeat the lion?"

He was being walked backward and Giomer's hand shot down to grip his friend tight when his back hit the wall. "Or did your duty fail you?"

Giomer smothered his partner against the wall, biting at his lips and neck, but Beagán simply turned his head, unresponsive to the brut's taunts.

At his lack of action Giomer sighed dramatically and slipped away from him with one last squeeze.

"You lied...that means he's mine," The villain made towards Stephanos's door but his wrist was caught as he gripped the handle.

"My claim…."

"Means nothing," Giomer's voice was rising. "Had you bed that boy properly I'd have heard screams, not the two of you whining and mewling last night."

"What happened between he and I was a carnal act that fulfills my claim!"

"Not to me," the bruit shook his wrist free and smiled.

Beagán ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "how long do you intend to delay our mission?"

Giomer crossed his arms, "well that really depends on you."

The raven rubbed at his eyes and took a deep breath, changing tactics.

"Look, I know you like a fight...but I prefer my pray to come to me…."

Giomer watched his partners smirk carefully, "and if you don't want to clean your own clothes and pluck your own food I suggest you stop trying to _violate_ our host."

The gruff man smiled, pointing a meaty finger directly in his face, "I. Want. Venison." He turned and walked towards the door closest to the small stable. "Don't worry, your _swain_ (1) will be here in one piece when you get back," he called over his shoulder.

ooo

Stephanos turned his face farther into his pillow as the rising sun set his skin aglow, and he pulled the covers further up his naked shoulders until they covered his messy gold wheaten head.

He nearly fell of the bed in a mad scramble of limbs and blankets when he heard the voice at the foot of his bunk.

"Good morning little lamb. I hope you slept well," the gruff words were overly sweet.

"What are you doing in my chambers," the roman pulled his covering up to his chest as he realized he was standing huddled in the corner on top of his bed, as far away as he could get.

"Leave," his wide eyes played false against his strong tone. "I won't ask twice."

The mad man looked as though he would combust with laughter. "My most gracious apologies," he mocked. "I only wanted to inform you that the handsome Beagán and I will need to rely on your hospitality for uh...a few more days…."

"You speak as if you're a guest in my home…," Stephanos frowned.

"We're are but weary travelers looking for…," the callous man tried.

"You two barbarous criminals barged into my home and continue to hold me prisoner…."

"How do you know that we're criminals…"

The shorter man, now fuming, began to step forward, "I can smell the blood on you from miles away…." He looked down his nose from atop the foot of his bed, the sun engulfing him in it's radiance as Giomer stared up at him.

"Have you heard the story of Ganymede," he asked from the shadows just beyond Stephanos's ring of light.

"I know the tale and whatever you're going to say doesn't change the fact that you entered my home using threats…"

Stephanos's speech was cut short by the hand that yanked his blankets forward, and he tumbled to the mattress as Giomer took hold of one of his wrists. The artist's other hand grabbed for the fallen linens, barely covering his modesty.

A loud bang stopped both men in their respective tracks.

Beagán stepped forward, "Giomer, let him go?"

Giomer quickly pulled the man in close to growl at him, "my hands are _clean_ compared to your _pal_ Beagán ."

He shoved the smaller man away and turned to leave but stopped to whisper to his cohort. "Remember our bargain," he winked.

"Your venison is bleeding out front," was his reply and Beagán locked the door behind him, quickly coming to Stephanos's side.

He wrenched his hand away when the hunter sought to check his thin wrist. "Steph, let me see...please."

"You said you would leave today," he met his eyes. "You said if I let you...stay the night you would go…."

Beagán was quiet a moment, feeling along the artist's wrist. There wasn't any damage done and his bruises from yesterday were already healing well. "He doesn't consider what we did...binding".

Stephanos looked away and stood, and Beagán released him without protest.

Walking to the chest in the corner he pulled out clean robes.

"Look, I'm sorry," he continued. "I believe what we did was enough and I didn't think he'd contest my word I...I just need time to convince him to go. We have a mission to complete and he knows it. We have to leave soon."

"But he won't leave until one of you…." Stephanos left his back to the dark haired man unable to give voice to the anger he felt.

Beagán shook his head, standing to look out the window. The sun was getting high, and the tall emerald grass swayed with the wind. The sky overhead shone an intense blue, but a thick wave of angry grey clouds cut a line through the sky.

The proverbial storm was coming.

"...If I could just get the drop on him," he narrowed his eyes at the lightening in the distance. "I can make sure we're leagues from here before he wakes."

When the warrior turned the blond was standing barely a foot from him.

"Once we're gone you can never come back to this house. Go to your father's estate and make sure there's a guard at your door at all times."

Stephanos stared up at him in question.

"In case he seeks you out..."

"I will not live in fear of Giomer, or any man."

Beagán reached out to squeeze thin shoulders, "Stephanos he is _dangerous_ and a fight between the two of us would undoubtedly leave your city in ruins." He laid a gentle callused hand against the smaller man's slightly yellow purple cheek. "And if I should lose…." He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

They snapped open when he felt a soft press of lips.

"Then finish it," Stephanos met his eyes with valor. He slipped the new robe from his shoulders and stood flush against the rogue, his hands resting on his chest.

"No," Beagán stepped back, his lower half hitting the window sill.

"If this is the only way for you to go in peace then do it." The blond stepped back into his space and grabbed for his shirt with moistening eyes. "Just do it!"

Beagán held tight to him as tears wet his shirt, and suddenly his chest felt strange….

He felt a thump, and then another, and another, until it matched the rhythmic beating of his own.

The beat shifted, and in his mind's eye he could see a pulsing thread that lay hanging from his chest.

His eyes snapped open as he realized it's destination.

"I can't," his voice was far away for a moment but then became fierce, "...I _won't_ do that."

The shame of Stephanos's tears only made them fall faster, and Giomer's assertion of Beagán's violent past haunted him. How, how could the hands of someone seemingly so noble bare more blood than the man who sought to steal his dignity.

The taller man released him and lifted his robes, covering him, before stepping aside and heading towards the door.

Stephanos watched as his would be protector disappeared through the door of his sanctuary, and his knees buckled as the door clicked shut. He held fast to the window ledge for support, and his hand covered his mouth to quiet his sobs.

Beagán watched from the arch of the front door as Giomer flayed his meat, holding up a large piece of skin with a smile. They would have warm cloaks for the winter if he took the time to stretch it properly.

Calmly Beagán watched him work. Getting the drop on the well trained Goliath would not be easy, and if he should fail. He shook his head, Stephanos would face a fate worse than death. He would be used without mercy and then, if he was lucky, only discarded. Imagining the small but stubbornly brave man trying to fight off a man like Giomer caused an almost physical pain in the wanderer's stomach, and he kicked at the fat pebbles at his feet.

He let the moment of melancholy come, why _was_ he interfering?

Stephanos wasn't the first innocent to fall victim to Giomers "sickness", nor doubtedly the last, so why.

The runt's sad but fiery eyes brought a smile to Beagán's lips. He was strong in both will and conviction, steadfast in his refusal to heed the bully's threats. He'd never met anyone like him and he intended to protect the man's remaining honor, no matter the cost.

A sudden pressure in his chest sent him gasping for a moment and he grabbed for his heart. That feeling when he held Stephanos, the thread, it had reached out to the younger man, landing, and worse connecting.

Beagán rubbed a hand over his face. He'd only seen that happen once before in his unnaturally long life and it's meaning could neither be mistaken nor denied. 'I have to get Giomer as far away from Stephanos as possible...at least until I can figure out how to break the contract, preferably without dying,' he thought.

A deep laugh brought him out of his thoughts, "What fancy has brought a smile to such enchanting lips, old friend?"

"My smile was at the prospect of finishing this mission," he deflected, walking past his partner, further from the house, towards the stables.

A smirk was just beginning as the madman followed his more rational counterpart. "We've traveled long years together my valiant Beagán, I know your face and I know that look, I've seen it once before," he followed the now frowning man into the stable. "Your lips bore that smile on the day you chose to become my life's partner on this journey."

Beagán turned to looked at his abettor (2), really look, "it was a mistake."

Now it was Giomer's turn to frown.

"I didn't _know_ you back then," he looked away. "And by Luna's light I didn't know myself," he met the large green eyes again. "And look where it's brought us," he gestured around them, the horses still placid and unphased by their presence. "I tire of these games, Giomer!"

The Germanian's hand shot out to halt his retreat. "A mistake you say…."

Their stairs became glares as both men's tempers flared.

"I wonder," he none too gently shoved his companion back into the nearest stall door. "What magic does this small yellow moll possess that has tamed the mighty winter?"

The blue of Beagán's eyes shimmered for a moment, and he smacked the large hand away from it's place on his chest.

"You well know that there is no magic in this world, save death herself, that could pull me from your side. I only wish to be rid of this accursed villa." The angry black haired man jabbed a finger at the larger man's peck. "It is your _obsession_ that keeps us here!"

The bear's meaty hand was suddenly around his throat, the motion so swift that Beagán choked on the half breath he'd taken.

"Only the truth shall pass your lips when you address me." He narrowed his eyes, pulling the man closer, speaking in a low dangerous tone. "I have made my terms clear. I want him, as I have wanted none other, save you, before this day." He released his companion but remained close, "If you've no attachment to the boy then lay your claim and be done with it."

A thunderous crack of lightning crashed over head and Beagán started at the sudden loud whine of the horses.

"Taking something...or someone... doesn't make it yours." He met the dirty blond's eyes, "Why? Why can we not slake our lust in the brothels of Athens?"

Giomer was on him in seconds, his lips and hands tearing at him, exposing pale marred flesh.

"His beauty is pure," the brut spoke between biting kisses. "I want it...his innocence...his will. I want to feel him break beneath me...I want to ride him," he bucked against his partner, wrapping a hand in his hair and yanking backward to expose more rough flesh.

Beagán closed his eyes. He'd lost comfort in Giomer's lips long ago, when every kiss began to taste of blood. And though his experience was not as vast as his partner's, having chosen quality over quantity, he knew how to please this man. They'd traveled together over fifty winters and he was confident that he'd become the larger man's favorite plaything.

Beagán forced a moan and thrust his hips against him, "Why don't you ride me instead." He smirked at the taller warrior, pleased when their mouths crashed together.

ooooo

Having finally gathered his racing thoughts Stephanos looked out his bedroom window at the approaching storm. He'd need to bring in as many fruits and vegetables as possible before it hit, otherwise, be it one or three of them, they'd all starve if the crops were washed away.

He gathered several baskets, taking them outside and filling them. He saved as many rooted things as possible but as the sky began to darken he realized he'd need help with the chickens and the lazy old cow still roaming near the house.

"Where in Juno's name did those two go," he wondered to himself.

As lightning began to strike in the distance the horses nays became more distressed, and after the umteenth whine Stephanos began to wander towards the stables.

The growling moan he heard on his approach quickened his pace, his imagination deceiving him with images of a somehow injured Beagán.

The barn door let out a staccato of quiet creaks as it opened, and Stephanos walked quickly towards the ever rising moans.

His eyes widened and he swallowed thickly at what he found.

Giomer's back rested against a thick post, his hips rolling forward at a slow steady pace.

And before him knelt his champion, hair pulled back and held tight by one large hand, his chest bare and his wrists bound behind his back.

Stephanos could see the scene clearly.

Beagán and Giomer stared directly into the others half lidded eyes, and the hunter leaned his head farther back to let the blond's heavy member slide along his outstretched tongue. The taller man's mouth fell open as the head was stroked with his tongue before being swallowed again.

Giomer's eyes slid shut as his companion slowly bobbed his head.

Stephanos hand felt for his chest as he looked away. There were more emotions building than he was able to process at that moment, but his mind settled on anger when he looked up to see Giomer smirking at him.

A moment later Beagán also noticed him.

He moved to pull away but Giomer gripped his hair harder, thrusting faster, before cumming down the choking man's throat with a loud audacious moan.

Stephanos turned and walked as quickly as his small feet would carry him, out of the barn, his pace quickly becoming a run once he was outside.

"Steph…," Beagán shouted as he lurched back and shuffled to his feet.

He hadn't taken three steps before his raven black hair was grabbed and yanked back.

"Giomer, please!"

His answer was a cruel laugh, "I'm not done yet." Any further protest was denied by the tongue seeking the white liquid still on his lips.

Stephanos stopped to breathe when he reached the house, laying a hand on the white clay to steady himself. It was already beginning to rain and his animals were still scattered about the property, but his thoughts raced for a moment more.

Of course they were lovers….

'Giomer said they've traveled together for a long time…. Of course they….'

Stephanos shut his eyes before shaking his head, vehement in understanding. There were more pressing matters to attend to, like Vesta breaking into a sprint with every increasingly frequent bolt of thunder.

With shaky hands he began gathering his chickens, one by one placing them back in their coop.

Twenty minutes later he latched the gate behind his rooster, and he looked up and sighed as the rain further blurred his vision.

Vista meandered on, trotting away from the house, and he followed with now dripping wet robes. It took him some time to catch up with her, and more still to make her walk in his chosen direction.

Suddenly Stephanos could feel the pressure around him change and he looked up just in time to see the brightest light he'd ever seen flash before him.

And in that instant there were arms around him.

The white blue light was blinding as the lightning connected with a crackling shell of energy.

And just as suddenly as it struck, it stopped.

When Stephanos's vision cleared he could see steam rising from the back and head of his dark haired savior.

"Ugh…," Beagán's voice was raw. "Steph, you okay," he asked, slowly loosening his embrace.

Before the young man could answer his hero's eyes slid shut and his body went limp. Stephanos tried valiantly to catch him but he only managed to guide him down into his wet lap.

"Beagán…," small hands shook the sleeping slav. "Beagán!"

"He can't hear you little one."

Stephanos gulped and slowly turned his face up toward the large steaming man standing, almost pouting, behind him.

"Wha...what happened," he asked wide eyed. "What just happened?!"

Giomer stepped around the pair and smiled, gingerly bending to one knee. He reached out to stroke the shiny black hair, "he's shown his hand."

ooo

Beagán groaned. His eyes felt like they were about to explode out of his head and his arm grudgingly moved to cover them.

"Dea Matrona," he sighed.

"Dea...," he heard Giomer scoff. "Why do you always call upon the mother. Andraste, goddess of victory! Agrona goddess of war! Now that's a goddess!" He laughed and Beagán frowned.

He left his arm over his eyes as he spoke, "does he live?"

"For now. He was quite shocked by your timely rescue." His tormentor stood and walked slowly around the room, lighting candles and speaking in a congenial manner. "The poor thing, he was soaked through when we got inside." Giomer stopped just shy of the large window, raising a dripping navy blue robe from the sil. "It was strange though, he was well less than grateful when I helped him into his dry robes."

That encounter wasn't hard for Beagán to imagine.

Giomer carrying his unconscious weight to Stephanos's room, dropping his soggy heft, shoes and all, on to the bed.

Undressing his partner but then observing the soft wet fabric clinging to Stephanos's thin shoulders as he hovered at Beagán's side.

"You've used up quite a bit of energy...old friend."

'No use ignoring the obvious,' Beagán thought.

"Now," the larger hand slid beneath the thin fur cover to trail thick fingers up the inside of the rogue's thigh. "We can recharge you quickly, or," he gave his lover a squeeze. "Shall we let nature take its course?"

Beagán closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. It would take somewhere near a fortnight for his full strength to return; taking on the mother of nature herself always drained him quickly.

Beagán slowly pulled the covering from his naked body, sliding his knees up and open.

"I always prefer the faster way Giomer," he smirked in an effort to make the gesture more believable.

Unfortunately, he was attempting to play a hand that had lost its value.

The current stronger of the two leant down close, nabbing quick rough kisses with firm tugs between his partner's stuttering thighs.

"I think I'd prefer…" Giomer's breath was hot in Beagán's ear. "To let you regain your strength the _hard_ way," he smiled with another squeeze.

The bear stepped back abruptly, covering the slav with his pelt, as they heard the bedroom door open.

Stephanos stood in the doorway framed by the light of the setting sun, meeting Beagán's frown with question, and only giving a moment to Giomer's wistful smile.

"I've brought you some food," he said quietly.

"Why thank you my adonic friend…." The brute stepped forward but the little Italian side stepped him, coming to a stop at his knight's bedside.

"It's for Beagán," Stephanos met the taller man's eyes, his chin raised.

Giomer smiled. He was proud of the small nobel.

Though he knew that pride would not save him.

The clover eyed man bowed his head. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to your meal then." He shut the door gently and Stephanos let out the breath he'd been holding.

Immediately he turned to the bedridden man.

"Beagán, what happened out there? Please tell me," he laid the plate of food down on the bedside table and sat down, reaching over to wring out a rag from a nearby basin. "I need to know." He placed the cool rag across the warriors clammy brow.

The man in question turned his face away. "We seem to find ourselves at another impasse," he hissed with a wince.

"What do you mean," Stephanos's soft hands turned his cheeks to better worry directly into the man's eyes.

Beagán breathed hard, his face shifting quickly from anguish to longing, before settling with resolve, all of this causing a panic to raze the hairs on the back of Stephanos's neck.

"Beagán...you're scaring me," he shook the warrior. "Please, please tell me what's happening."

"I wish…," he sighed wearily. "I wish I had time to explain who... _what_ we are," the demon raised his hand twice before he managed to cup the warm pink cheek and rest their brow together. "What I did took a lot of energy. It's weakened me to the point that I won't be able to fight Giomer off when he attacks, but..."

Stephanos sat up, suddenly realizing the weight of what he'd just heard, the certainty of it.

" _When_ he attacks," he repeated in a whisper.

Life was no fairy tale.

His reluctant knight would be defeated.

He looked to the door.

"It's only a matter of time...isn't it," he whispered.

His fingers began to tingle, and it took him a moment to realize they were being straightened and then closed around a handle.

"If you're going to suggest that I try and defend myself I think we both know how that's gonna turn out," the smaller man began, staring off into space, refusing to meet the blue grey eyes that lay next to him.

A hand took hold of his wrist, raising it. "Don't get me wrong," Stephanos scoffed, "I'm not going down without a figh…."

Turning back his words fell short.

A dagger lay over Beagán's beating heart, the blade already causing a small river of blood to pool and leak down his chest.

"Wha…."

"Giomer can restore my energy but he won't, and he likes to play with his..." He gulped but continued, seemingly distracted, "even if I were at my full strength killing Giomer would...have consequences." The dark haired man looked at the knife. "With me in this state I'd say you have about a moon or two before he…." He met his lamb's eyes.

"Before what?"

The warrior's voice failed him at the hidden fear he saw.

"Before he what, Beagán," Stephanos shouted, furious with his options.

"He'll wait for you to be at my side when he comes for you." Beagán turned his eyes to the ceiling. "He may even take you here, on the floor of this very room, right in front of me."

The blond tried to pull away, "he'll make it hurt to...he'll make sure you scream…."

"Let me go…."

"He'll bruise your wrists, your thighs, and he'll probably keep you for a while."

Stephanos began to struggle harder, bringing a second hand to the hilt, but Beagán used his second as well, squeezing his fingers and pressing down.

"And well before I'm able to stop him he'll sell you on the slave blocks…."

The dagger was slowly sinking deeper and the rogue hissed.

"Beagán stop!"

"Our life line runs through me."

"What!?"

"If you kill me Giomer will die too. Do it," he whispered fiercely, finally meeting the young painter's eyes, his own wet.

"No!"

Time slowed and Stephanos's vision blurred.

"You have to do it now, before he realizes…."

"Red," Stephanos looked down at Beagán's bloody chest. "What is that...thread?"

"Wh…," he loosened his grip on the smaller man's hands. "You can see it?"

Long thin fingers lifted the pulsing thread, then followed it's anchor from it's place in Stephanos's chest to it's base in the bare breast of his knight.

"Beagán...does this mean?" He looked into pained eyes before they slid sideways towards the last splintering rays of the sunset.

"There were stories," his bed ridden champion began from somber lips. "That my people told a long time ago…."

Impulse

The thread throbbed, and the blade fell aside. Rosy lips found the torn flesh of Beagán's chest and the heavier man couldn't help the breathy sound that came with the first downy soft touch.

"It's said that those connected by the red string of fate, arrhh…." The warrior arched as the artist's tongue found the bloody tare and he took the painter's face in his hands to stop his both painful and pleasant ministrations, a smear of blood across his lips and chin as he met his eyes.

"You must stop Ste…."

His words were cut off by a heady coppery kiss.

The Italian straddled his mate, weaving nimble fingers through opal hair.

Already Beagán could feel the pull of energy from his other half; his limbs moved more easily, and a peek at Stephanos showed a crisp golden glow building beneath his skin.

"Stop!"

He took the painter by his wrists, Stephanos's unfocused eyes glowing a faint gold.

"You must stop," the beast bowed his head as he sat up, hiding the swirling blue shades in his own eyes. He held the sweet smelling blond at arms length, trying and failing to will down the excitement in his lap.

Stephanos could feel the heat of his blush but pressed himself forward anyway. His body burned and Beagán's cool skin would be his only balm. "Let me heal you…."

The warrior released his wrists in favor of wrapping Stephanos in a tight embrace. "Killing me is your only option," he shuddered as the smaller man flicked his tongue against the sensitive flesh of his throat.

"Why," he whispered. "I know what the thread means." He sat back to speak more clearly but his mind wasn't quite able to focus between the larger man's eyes and lips. "We're linked...I can give you my energy."

"Steph, the amount of energy it would take to get me back into fighting shape would kill you."

The wolf fought hard to keep his hips from bucking up against the squirming man.

"I can give it to you slowly," their foreheads rolled together. "Over a number of days."

"We don't have time, Solis (3)..."

Stephanos sat back, moving the furry linens aside, before settling his nearly naked bottom atop Beagán's very defined and very bare hips.

His hair was getting long, hanging a bit longer than his Soldier's, just enough to hide part of his blush as he spoke.

"You can... I mean, we need to talk, a _lot_ , but…."

Frustrated with his nerves Stephanos untied his belt and slowly pulled his tunic open.

His arms crossed his thin chest awkwardly, "I mean that you can...drink your fill," he whispered.

Stephanos's awkward blushing consent crumbled the last of the warrior's honorable resolve, "come here," he smiled.

Their kiss left the small man breathing hard, with Beagán's mischievous hands finally given their desperately sought permission to touch as he truly wanted.

When those clever fingers began to slide up his thighs beneath his half discarded tunic Stephanos broke their kiss, only slightly more selfasured than during their first encounter.

"Here," the dark haired man touched his index finger to bright kiss stained lips, slipping the digit inside to stroke the soft palate. Stephanos began to slowly suck and lick the long finger, reading his mind. "Make it wet," Beagán mouthed against his ear.

When the finger was removed the slav's lips meandered down the soft column of flesh along the artist's pale neck, and Stephanos gripped the warrior's shoulders with a gasp as he was slowly entered from the opposite end.

The finger pressed in gently until his second knuckle met the tingling ring of flesh, finding a careful rhythm.

The lips on his throat began to burn and the artist trembled as that heat spread. When a second finger found it's way inside him he gasped into the raven's hair.

"Mmm...Hot…," he moaned.

Beagán adjusted them so they could more easily rub their hardness together and his moans, echoed by Stephanos, filled the room.

His fingers sank deeper as his lips let go his lovers soft throat to watch the rising glow of the blond's skin. Beagán pressed hard against the small cluster of nerves inside him, adding the last of his energy and eagerly swallowed down the artist's passionate cries as both of them shuddered. The release of energy crashed into the warrior, every cell in him inhaling, devouring the blazing light.

"Buc...Beagán," the blond whined, wrenching his mouth away, arching back with a loud needy moan.

Beagán stilled, pulling his fingers free and wrapping the small man in a loose embrace. He could feel him wheezing, trying to calm himself, and the wolf spoke quietly between slow cooling kisses aimed at the intense blush coloring his slim throat and chest.

"Steph, tha...that..." His tongue flicked out at Stephanos's still very hard nipples as he leaned the artist back a bit. "Mmmm I feel much better."

The blond smirked with a quiet moan, "stronger than you thought...aren't I…."

Beagán panicked for a moment as Stephanos went limp, but he chuckled when he heard the light snoring.

"Yes," he said, laying the sleeping man down and curling around him. "Yes, much stronger," he nuzzled the fine hairs beneath his ear.

"That was some show!"

Beagán rolled to his knees, the dagger that had been at his heart a few minutes ago now in his hand, his wound healed.

Giomer stalked farther into the room, his deep laugh kept low, as if anything less than an erupting volcano could wake the small Italian. The dull green glow of his eyes gave a sickly pallor to his skin in the dim candle light, and his gaze was firmly fixed on the softly glowing blond.

"The whelp charged you up pretty well." The dirty blond reached for the sleeping man but pulled his hand back quickly when the blade of Beagán's knife connected with the back of it.

Giomer stood in shock for a moment at the speed and ferocity of the attack, his companion had definitely managed to siphon off more energy than he'd expected.

And the unnatural purplish blue of Beagán's eyes was different than any color he'd seen the man flash.

It was new, which meant there was something different about the energy he'd received.

Giomer stared intensely at his partner, who was slowly crawling forward to block his view of his small bedmate, as he backed up toward the door.

When he pulled a rag from the kitchen to wrap his still bleeding hand he thought seriously about what he'd just witnessed. He hadn't seen that eye color before, but he knew that look.

It was pure instinct, feral. The lights were on but Beagán was most certainly not home.

Giomer let loose a booming cackle when he realized.

He hadn't sensed anything special about the boy in the two days since their arrival, but he was most assuredly glowing, that coupled with the raven's fierce reaction led him to the only conclusion that made since.

The hulking warrior smiled maliciously at the closed wooden door, latched with the mental arm of the artist's ferocious shepherd.

He made sure his voice was loud enough to carry when he spoke, "of all the farmhouses, in all the lands, in all the known world! You have the luck of one truly touched by the Gods to have found such a prize chasing cows in these fields."

He approached the lover's room with a crackling malignant energy that caused Beagán's hair to stand on end from where he now crouched at the foot of the bed.

"Make your mark soon," the fiend caressed the wood as he addressed his companion. "One's Seelenverwandte (4) is a gift to be held dear…." He closed his eyes, "his scent is intoxicating is it not? He smelled sweet before, mmmm, but now…."

Inside the warrior sat, running a hand through his hair, all of his emotions fighting to be expressed at once. His heart was both light with the glow of Stephano's sunny spirit, and heavy with the ever present threat of Giomer's "sickness" as he himself had called it.

And it was driving him mad.

"I can _feel_ him through the door," the savage sighed. "You must be bursting laying next to him. Wanting so badly to rip the petals from such a delicate flower." He leaned his back against the door. "You have until the sun sleeps tomorrow...and then he's mine."

Beagán listened to the fading footsteps. There was a pressure building behind his eyes, and he pulled at his hair with the stress.

One way or another they would leave this house tomorrow.

ooooo

Stephanos blinked but his vision refused to clear. He rolled, his body heavy, until he could sit. "Mmmm Beagán," he yawned. The light pelt pooled at his waist and before he could catch himself he fell over. His head was foggy and he blinked again, breathing slowly, dizzy on the large bed.

"Buc…mmm," the blond put a hand to his head. "Mmmm, Bea...Beagán," he called weakly.

Suddenly there were hands on his wrists and he was being lifted from the bed. Instinctively he leaned in to the strong shoulder but something wasn't right. The rough hide that slid against his naked arms was slick with something.

The morning chill helped clear his confusion and he felt a pang of horror when he realized who was carrying him down the hallway of his small villa.

He began to struggle and when he looked down at the broad chest covered in flicks and splatters of blood he screamed.

"Let me go! Let...let me go...Beagán! Beagán," he yelled.

His flailing seemed to work for a moment, his arms swinging and legs kicking. The brute actually stumbled, laughing, "I won't tell you to calm down...honestly I like a good fight…."

Stephanos kicked out at his knee when he was momentarily lowered, and the blow sent his attacker reeling. The Italian scrambled away, taking off in a sprint.

Giomer cursed but quickly regained his balance, shaking off the blow. "Go ahead and run little one! I have all day."

Stephanos ran straight towards the large door at the end of the hall, barreling through and twisting his ankle in his haste to bar the door behind him. He lifted the thick piece of wood beside the door and dropped it across the three slats on its back and sides.

Unfortunately he'd been right to make space for a safe room when he'd had the small villa built. Being the son of a politician carried its own inherited risks, but he never imagined it would be used like this.

Limping backward he listened for the monster, and when the door didn't immediately fly off its hinges he turned. The last 5 summers the room had mostly been used for storage, and he kicked himself once more for refusing even a single guard.

The only light in the room came from a small high window that let in a single thick beam, so it was no surprise that he tripped over something large sprawled across the floor near the back.

What he landed on was soft and he'd know that scent of clove and wildflowers anywhere.

"Beagán! Minerva's veil," he whispered loudly. He took the man's slippery face in his hands and froze. Stephanos held his hand closer to the light.

Blood...a lot of blood. His knight had been beaten unconscious while he'd slept on peacefully, none the wiser.

A pang of guilt flooded the small blond for sleeping through his monster's ordeal.

With trembling hands he quickly held a finger under the sleeping slav's nose to check for breath. After their last night together he wasn't sure he'd have the strength of will to fight off his adversary if his consort was already lost to him.

'Better to join him...,' Stephanos paused in his fright at the unbidden thought, before turning back to his sleeping prince.

"Please," the little artist prayed. "Beagán...please wake up."

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the first slam of Giomer's shoulder into the door, and he realized it wouldn't take very long for him to break in.

"Beagán," he whispered against his ear, gathering the unconscious man into his arms.

Another slam.

"I know...I know I can't fight him off by myself…."

The next slam seemed to shake the whole house.

The noble looked up at the door hiccuping back tears. "It's okay though…."

The wooden beam across the door splintered with the next blow.

"I'll fight," Stephanos's thick tears dripped red streaks down the warriors serene face.

"I'll fight with everything I've got," he sniffed.

One more. The door wouldn't hold and both conscious men knew it.

The artist lay his partner's head back down, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips before standing. "And please, please don't go doing anything stupid when I'm gone."

Nearly panting with adrenaline Stephanos reached out in the darkness, grabbing hold of a large round wooden barrel lid, bracing it in front of himself like a shield.

When the door crashed open he charged with a roar, hitting Giomer in the solar plexus and knocking the wind out of him. The shorter blond swung the wooden shield catching the larger in the jaw, knocking him to the side.

He only glanced back at his bloody angel for a moment before he turned to run, but that second was all the viper needed.

Giomer's arm shot out catching hold of Stephanos's injured ankle, and he seemed to weigh about as much as a wet kitten as the artist was quickly pulled back to him.

"Tag," the devil shouted, ripping the shield away and flinging it hard. He pulled their faces close, "You're it."

"I'll kill you in your sleep...I swear it," the painter shouted and Giomer laughed. It was the laugh of a truly fearless man.

"If you're able to move at all after today I'll be very impressed little one."

The giant stood holding his prize under the arms, just off the floor one handed as he struggled.

"You bastard," Stephanos shouted as he was carried kicking and screaming down the hallway.

As they neared its end he bit the intruder as hard as he could and it was enough to startle him.

"Beagán! Bea," he screamed, but a monstrous hand circled his throat quieting his protests as he was pulled around the corner into the servants quarters.

The twitch of Beagán's fingers went unnoticed at the other end of the hall.

Stephanos struggled, he knew he was prone to fits that seized his chest and in his youth left him gasping in his mother's arms, but he didn't care. He would break free or die trying.

The larger of the two licked his lips and smiled, shocking the smaller when he released him with a shove towards the small bed in the corner.

He watched the quick rise and fall of the nobel's chest when he turned glistening furious eyes on him. "You truly intend to fight me," he said with wonder as he closed in on him.

Stephanos raised his small fists, clearly limping as he assumed a fighting stance. "I could do this all day."

Giomer hid his laugh behind a meaty fist. "You know, I was going to give him until sunset today to take you. But as the rooster crowed I could not deprive myself of this sight."

He easily caught the jab meant for his slightly sore jaw and smiled down at his fortune.

"That spirit!"

"Stop!"

With one shove Giomer sent him flying back onto the hard bed, and he took his time removing his clothes, monologing as he went.

"The first boy I ever had looked a bit like you…."

His heavy sword belt hit the floor with a clunk, followed by his outer tunic.

"He was wee too, and pretty...like you," he looked his victim up and down. "He had hair like fire."

Stephanos's tactic eyes darted around the room looking for any means of escape.

The ogre rubbed at the swollen bulge beneath his britches as he reached for the terrified man, but the blond smacked his hand away.

When the second hand was smacked and a foot connected with his stomach Giomer lost his patience. The brute grabbed the runty man's ankles pulling his legs apart to drop down between them.

Stephanos thrashed wildly, despite being physically overpowered, but Giomer was persistent. "He fought too...and it cost him his life."

"You son of a harpy!" The noble spit in his face and the bully froze.

The artist also went still; the anger in his adversary's eyes chilled him to the bone.

Giomer moved so fast that a scream was the only answer to the pain that seized him. Ripping his thin robe the barbarian bit hard into the soft meat of the slender shoulder before him, forever maring the creamy flesh. The next bite was paralyzing as teeth dug into the thin skin at his ribs, and then again to his left hip, and his right thigh and ankle.

Each press of teeth evoked a cry of pain.

Stephanos's mind reeled, the gentle nips Beagán left were nothing like the vicious chomp of Giomer's fangs.

As the smaller man was flipped on to his front he gasped, every mark was bleeding and stung where they rubbed the sheets.

The bite to his left cheek was particularly vicious and he chewed his lip raw to stem his sobs.

In the shadows of the store closest Beagán's body jerked with every wail of pain, and a thin blue mist began to gather beneath him.

Giomer turned the small man again and wrenched his wrists back above his head, holding them there, as he entered him with a rough dry finger.

"St...Stop," Stephanos cried out. But Giomer only thrust harder, adding another large meaty finger much too soon.

"Please," the small blond choked between pained tears. "Please stop!"

The third finger tore him and he was almost glad, blood was clearly the only lubricant he'd receive during this ordeal.

By the fourth finger the smaller man's quiet tears flowed freely. He closed his knees and rolled on to his side when he was released so that Giomer could untie the binding on his britches, wiping bloody fingers on his outermost shirt.

When the beast looked up the blond was leaning, breathing hard through his nose, against the wall as far away from him as possible. Giomer smirked at the bright red streak that followed his rump across the cream colored sheets where he'd slid away.

Again the fairer haired man was dragged across the bed by his ankles and he laughed, nearing hysterical, when he saw the twitching leaking creature he was to be impaled on.

It hadn't seemed that big from across the barn, but it was monstrous up close. 'Beagán was large,' the blond thought, 'but this….' He'd bleed to death if he was forced to endure such torture. So he fought.

Stephanos kicked out wildly, catching the monster in the cheek and side, but a vice like grip on his throat quickly choked the strength from him.

Giomer grinned as he watched the gold light begin to rise, and just as quickly die, in the smaller man's eyes as he struggled.

Spots began to form at the edges of Stephanos's vision as he clawed at the massive paw around his neck.

"Buc...Beag," he tried.

The warrior released him just as his arms began to go slack, and the thin man wheezed as Giomer raised his legs to rest against his shoulders, lining himself up, ready to plunge into the small red rimmed pucker.

Just as he began to ease forward he felt a pain unlike anything he'd felt in years and he looked down to find a glowing blue blade sticking out of his chest.

Beneath him Stephanos's battered limbs could only flinch at the spray of blood.

Giomer struggled to turn his head, though he already knew who the sword belonged to.

"Beagán," he gasped. "You bastar…." He never got to finish his thought as the crackling blue energy flared. Blood began to stream from his eyes nose and mouth, and the demon pulled his blade free as his partner fell to his knees.

The bloody raven came to stand at his soon to be ex-partner's side and met his eyes.

"She's...already coming for you," a chuckle from bloody lips. "You and your little whor…," the villain's last words were cut short as Beagán lopped off his head with a decisive stroke.

Stephanos was glad to be free of Giomer but his fear rose again staring up wide eyed at his savior. His visible wounds sizzled and smoked with an eerie blue white light, the same light that completely filled the sockets where his eyes should have been.

And cold. There was a chill in the room so still and so cold it could only be described as ...death.

Stephanos lay prone, increasingly dizzy from his uncontrollable wheezing breaths, when his monster's sword clattered to the floor. He shuttered as the seemingly unconscious man wrapped a pelt around him before scooping him gently from the bed, but his vision faded to black well before they reached the door.

ooooo

Stephanos woke with a shriek from a fevered dream, full of monstrous winged creatures that breathed down fire and pestilence, and immediately he froze, a wave of pain washing over him.

His bites ozed, the new skin tearing as he rolled to his side panting.

Beagán was nowhere in site, which only heightened his panic, and soon his quickening breaths became a hiccuping gasping fight to pull oxygen into his lungs.

Stephanos tried valiantly to stand, making it to his knees before slumping over like a spring fole.

His short nails scratched at his throat as he struggled, and suddenly there were warm hands taking hold of his shoulders, lifting him to his feet.

Again the cool lips came, and with them life saving breath.

A chill spread through the artist as he breathed deep, Beagán's fingers sending shivers down his spine as they snaked around his shoulders to wrap him in his warm arms.

"Are you okay," the warrior whispered pulling back, but Stephanos's half lidded eyes were to distracted by the shimmering blue of his knight's to reply.

"Steph," the raven smiled with a gentle squeeze.

His gaze was glassy when he fully focused on Beagán, reversing the brunette's smile.

"I... _why_ …," he tried.

The young nobleman began to pull away farther, but his champion held fast.

"Steph…."

"He…," the jumbled tidal wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm the artist, and Beagán caught him when his knees gave out, settling them both down on the bed skins that covered the cave floor.

The quiet shaking sobs that followed were well overdue, and

Beagán rocked him gently as he rest his cheek atop the sweaty wheat colored hair.

A long while later, when his tears slowed, the blond turned further into Beagán's chest. Stephanos closed his eyes listening to his warrior's steady heart, "where are we," he asked in a low voice, immediately wanting to smack himself for bursting their quiet bubble.

"About four days ride from Rome," he answered, making no move to release him, but Stephanos sat back.

"You're taking me to my father?"

His suitor nodded.

"You can stay...in our house I mean...with me." A blush began to creep across Stephanos's cheeks, "My father's a very forward thinking man…."

Beagán chuckled.

"What, why are you laughing?" Sitting up between his knees the blond rest a hand over Beagán's suddenly fluttering heart, meeting his eyes, "will you stay...with me?"

The slav looked pained, "I want to," his eyes flickered to the artist's lips and his hands balled fur into his fists where they strained not to reach for him. "If I had a choice I would...till the end of our time. But I don't," he shook his head and smiled, sad. "For you to live in peace...I must leave."

Stephanos watched his lips, "If you're not there…," their eyes met again. "I don't…."

Beagán took a tight hold of the thin shoulders in front of him, ever mindful of his injuries. The man was black and blue all over.

"Don't you ever for one second think about throwing your life away," he whispered fiercely.

Stephanos started, shrinking back, shocked by his sudden change. Only once in the few days that they'd known each other had he been on the receiving end of Beagán's temper.

"I've taken so many lives...," the warrior stared off over his shoulder for a long still moment before his grip eased. "A life without strife is not to be thrown away. Especially on a beast like me." Beagán rubbed his treasure's pale shoulders. Visibly shaking the thought from his mind.

There was something off with Stephanos's angel, a quiet paranoia in anticipation of the Gods knew what. It worried him, but moreover he was terrified of the fact that he wasn't able to imagine his life without a man that he'd met under extreme duress less than a fortnight ago.

"I'll ride the first three days with you, and the third you'll be on your own. Ride hard and don't stop, your horse will be fine with a few days rest. I'll send word ahead, but you ride on, hard and fast, right up to the gates of your father's villa. Do you understand?"

Stephanos was still shocked silent. In three days he'd be _without_ his newly found other half.

He suddenly felt, despite his tunic, very cold.

The fingers that brushed his cheek turned his chin up to his companion's bright eyes, "do you understand, Steph?"

The man in question nodded, "Good. Now, you've been able to give me energy, but I was thinking…."

Stephanos raised his brow.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to give you my energy, reverse the flow so to speak."

The scrappy blond sat in surprised thought. "Why? And, do you mean like when you…," Stephanos touched his fingers to his lips.

"No," Beagán took his hand.

He lowered his eyes, "Not like when I help you breathe. I mean like before," he touched the thin fingers to his own lips, giving the tip of his index a quick lick, "When you healed me."

Stephanos flushed to the tips of his ears, and Beagán couldn't hold in his laughter, which earned him a small shove. But he held tight to his paramore.

"I don't know…," the blond began shakily, his eyes still red from his recent tears.

"No no no, we don't have to, I mean I know how to pass my energy. Before, in your room, you don't have any training in channeling so it was easier to use the subjoin instinct."

Stephanos's worry gave way to complete confusion as his partner rambled.

"Just...let me heal you," he chuckled.

Beagán rest his hands against silky but determined jaws and closed his eyes. Stephanos's small hands covered his escort's as they rest their foreheads together.

The quiet words that followed were gibberish to the younger man but they seemed to echo off the cave walls.

Stephanos watched with wonder as the warrior's skin began to glow a faint blue, and he became entranced when he opened his eyes.

The swirling azure was hypnotic and Beagán's lips were magnetic as he pulled Stephanos closer.

Outside their small cave a cloaked figure stood in the shadow of a tall leafy fig tree. The wraith watched the mouth of the men's cave and smiled at the rich light emanating from within. The night's stars were already shimmering as the sun began to set, and the jackal like creatures at it's sides whined but kept in their place.

"Soon little ones, soon," the phantom whispered as it pat the creatures heads. "The sharing of energy can heal the mind as well as the body, and they're both going to need this time if they're to survive the coming battles."

"Amore," the Italian tried, but the dark haired man was silent. "Beagán," the noble shook his sleeping prince.

The bear in question grunted and rolled over hiding his face in his arms.

"Beagán you're going to make this three day ride a four day ride. It's nearly mid morning! I'd of been up and milked three cows by now!"

Beagán's arm shot out pulling the smaller man over his side and into his arms so fast it made the blond's head spin.

"Did no one ever teach you how to wake a sleeping warrior," Beagán questioned against Stephanos's lips, his eyes still closed, and his kiss quickly silencing the sassy reply.

"mmm...Bea...Beagán," Stephanos gasped when the lips fell to his throat. "I don't mind an extra day with you." He squeaked and laughed when the brunette pinched his side. "But...but Giomer said," those words slowed his beast's lips, but he continued nuzzling.

"He said, 'she's coming for you.'" The artist took hold of his face to lock their eyes. "Who is coming for you, and why…?"

Beagán pulled away and began to gather his discarded clothes with a quiet sigh.

"Please talk to me...I can help you...I can," Stephanos took hold of his shirt as he stood, halting his movements until he looked at him. "I can help you. Whoever, whatever is coming for you I can handle it." He reached out for the warrior's hand. "And my father has powerful friends. We can protect you."

Beagán looked down at him. "I told you there'd be consequences for killing Giomer." He took a deep breath as he searched the artist's eyes. "I wish that the tie that bound us had never been."

Beagán fully turned to kneel before him, taking one of his hands and placing it against his steady heart. "I regret many things in my life, but none so much as the pain I've brought unto you." He lowered his eyes, un brave and unwilling to watch the aftermath of his confession. "For betraying Giomer, my life is forfeit. And nothing can stop what's coming for me."

With this Beagán stood, leaving a soft kiss on the blond's forehead and Stephanos watched him leave the cave, slack jawed.

They rode hard in a genial silence with the evenings full of spirited stories to keep their minds from counting down the hours. At night they slept huddled together amongst Beagán's furs, Stephanos wound tightly in his arms.

Near dusk on the third day of their journey they came upon a loose forest. Their gallop slowed to a trot, and then to a leisurely walk as they came upon a cool steady river. Beagán dismounted and tied their reins to a tree before coming around to help his shorter companion down.

"We should camp here for the night." Stephanos nodded. "Grab the packs and some wood for a fire, I'll build us some shelter."

Stephanos quickly set to work and a short while later there was a small fire, fresh water in their bladder skins, and several fish cooking. Their make-shift hut was thatched tightly with brush to keep out the wind and at it's rounded top it was nearly big enough for the shorter man to stand as he smiled at the flaming fish he'd caught just outside it's smaller rounded front.

"Well at least we know you wouldn't starve," Beagán chuckled.

"I'll have you know I'm quite a good hunter," the artist winked.

"I bet you are," Beagán stretched out on his back with a grin.

The forest was alive at night and they listened to it's song for a while.

"I was awake," Beagán began.

"What?"

"When you found me in the store cupboard, I was awake. I could hear everything...I just couldn't." His eyes were furious as he stared at the leafy ceiling. "My body wouldn't move, and I could _feel_ you. Your fear...your courage…." Stephanos came to kneel beside him. "I could hear your voice but... I felt like I was screaming, banging on the walls in my own head." The warrior closed his eyes as he felt the blond lay his head down on his chest.

"I had him on the ropes," Stephanos smiled, wrapping his arms around his mate.

Beagán sat up, hugging Stephanos close, when he felt his shirt begin to dampen.

"Hey listen, I know Giomer was scary, and unfortunately there are a lot of sick people in the world, but you're strong. I know that…"

"Oh, shut up!"

Beagán's mouth snapped shut. "Wha…."

Stephanos pulled away from his embrace, folding his knuckles in the shoulders of Beagán's shirt. "My father is the commander of many legions of men, I was raised with warriors." He loosened his grip, "I'm not a child, I know what the world is like. I've known men like Giomer...well no, I've…I've never met anyone so cruel…." The blond faltered at the recent memory, the ghost of fear and pain etched around his soft blue eyes, but he pressed on. "I also know what bravery looks like, and I lo…," both men sat wide eyed for a moment. The blond gulped and inched his knees a bit closer, "I mean I know it's only been a few days but I...I mean, I trust you, and if you trust me, if you...care...about me." The tips of the artist's ears were turning bright pink, "...you'll stay. You chose to put an end to Giomer's cruelty. Even though he was your partner. Even though you knew there'd be _consequences_."

Beagán gulped. "I will stand with you. I will fight for you, as you've fought for me. Please...let me fight for you."

A million different responses raced through the wildling's mind.

But part of loving someone was knowing when to let them go.

"Tomorrow," Beagán pulled Stephanos closer, giving his top lip a quick lick. "We can talk about the future...tomorrow," he whispered between kisses.

The smaller man's robes came undone with a simple tug on the sash, and Stephanos shuttered when Beagán's breath ghosted across a soft pink nipple.

"Tell me…," the artist gasped as the outlaw rolled them till he lay between pliant thighs. His tongue dipped into his taunt navel and Stephanos writhed when raven locks slid along his soft hips.

"P...please…Beagán…."

The larger man crawled back up his lover's body to meet his lusty eyes. "I'm with you," he stared intently at the innocent truth of his words. "And I'll tell you everything...tomorrow," he swallowed hard at the lie.

Stephanos couldn't help his grin as he kissed him, and he beckoned him up to help remove his shirt. Began held up a finger before rummaging around in his pack laying nearby, pulling out a small vile. "I've been traveling with olive oil since I stepped foot in this country," he laughed and Stephanos soon joined in.

When they sobered a bit Beagán reached out his hand with a bright smile as Stephanos crawled closer.

Hesitating, Beagán eyed the bottle, blushing slightly as he met his new partner's eyes. "I feel...I feel like I'm being selfish," he confessed.

Stephanos also looked down at the vile, staring for a moment before taking a deep breath, "Sometimes, there are no good choices." He met his monster's eyes, "have you ever looked up at the sky when it rains and suddenly there's a break in the clouds where the sun shines through?"

The warrior nodded. "That's what you are." Beagán cocked his head to the side in confusion. "A raging, terrible storm brought you to me but…." Stephanos reached out a gentle hand to cup his scruffy cheek. "You're that moment of calm. I want the clouds to clear, I want the sun…. I want you to stay."

The demon closed his eyes, holding the blond's warm hand against his cheek.

"I probably shouldn't but…", he smirked, "I trust you Beagán. That first night I was terrified. I knew I didn't really have a choice in what was going to happen to me." The painter fell silent and Beagán held his breath, his eyes squeezing shut harder in shame.

"I wish," he whispered, feeling completely outside himself. He had no precedent for what he felt for the young man who knelt before him. The last fifty years of his life had been an empty blur of blood and death before he'd been inexplicably drawn towards the artist's clearing.

He could feel Stephanos as he'd approached him in that field with Giomer, and, all the Gods help him, the first time he'd looked down into those defiant blue eyes….

The heavens could be cruel.

"I wish I'd found another way. I wish I'd been braver sooner, for you and for _so_ many others. It's a shame that will haunt my steps the rest of my days. And I am so," he opened and raised his eyes. "So sorry."

"I know you are...and I too wish you'd been braver sooner," the wolf dropped both his hand and his eyes. "For me," Stephanos continued, "and for them...but most currently for me."

Beagán stared at the ground thinking he'd gone mad when he heard the small levity.

Stephanos took another deep breath. "I forgive you Beagán. I haven't known you long but despite your past I know that there's a good man in here." He poked a finger at his chest. "You didn't hurt me that first night, nore the second, and you flat out refused me standing naked before you in my room."

"I haven't been so strong in the past."

Beagán became so lost in thought that Stephanos had to wave a hand in front of his face to catch his attention.

"Are you alright," the blond frowned.

"I...I'm sorry," the slav still would not meet his eyes.

"You have been many different men to many different people, but I know who you are to me," Stephanos's hand was glowing as he placed it over the wildling's heart and immediately the wolf's eyes began to glow, but he shut them tight, covering the hand with a larger one of his own.

"Steph…," the monster panted hotly.

Stephanos's eyes also began to glow as the red thread appeared and throbbed in his hand.

He met his beast's eyes, "I forgive you," he whispered.

Beagán kissed Stephanos's knuckles, his palm as he nuzzled it. He kissed his wrist and the inside of his elbow, which earned him a soft giggle.

"If we're going to, um," the wolf met his eyes. "I need to loosen you, so it doesn't hurt."

Stephanos could feel a strange mixture of excitement and fear beginning in his belly, but he nodded, flushing a rosy pink as Beagán guided him into a seemingly strange position.

"Um, Beagán, I don't knooohohoh," one of Stephenos's hands grabbed hold of the chicory hair beneath him as a tongue slid along his entrance. He knelt, knees spread wide atop Beagán's face, held in place at the hips by strong hands. He shivered as the soft thick organ loosened him, but he cried out when he was swallowed whole, barely registering the tongue being swapped for a well oiled finger.

By the third finger the nobleman's thighs trembled as he panted, bucking slowly into the wolf's tight lips, his thin fingers holding tight to raven locks.

The warrior could feel his lover getting close and he gently removed his fingers to take hold of Stephanos's thighs, maneuvering them again.

"Wha...why," the younger man gasped, and Beagán chuckled as he lifted his rump. The small blond watched him move, husky and firm. His nerves were noted and once again Beagán held out his hand.

Stephanos took it without reservation.

"Steph, how would you like to…."

"Oh, um," Stephanos stuttered. In his extremely limited sexual encounters he'd never actually been asked how he would like to be touched.

He knew he looked like a tomato but he bravely met his lover's eyes, "I want…." He gulped, "I want to see you." The blond reached out to touch the raven's lips. "I want to kiss you, look into your eyes. I want to know it's you that's..."

The beast nodded, smiling as he kissed him. "Lie back."

Stephanos scooted forward before laying back, his arms opening in beckoning to the warrior.

Beagán kissed him, angling his head to coax out his bedmate's timid tongue, and he chuckled at the artist's impossibly more red blush.

His fingers stroked his girth a few times to make sure he was well oiled before lining himself up.

Beagán's lips snuck downward, nipping the small lobe of his lamb's ear. Again came the strange words and Stephanos could feel every inch of his skin heat up. The warrior rocked into the smaller man slowly, and the artist gasped when his knight slipped past the delicate ring of muscle. He stilled for a moment and, after another application of oil, Beagán's talented playful lips tormented him as he slowly bucked deeper.

Fully sheathed the warrior stroked a bright pink cheek and the little painter turned to nuzzle into his palm, breathing hard.

The slav's hand that wasn't under Stephanos's head slid back down to grip one pert round cheek, and Stephanos moaned at the first roll of Beagán's hips. He gripped the dark hair in tufts at the second.

Beagán drove himself forward slowly, careful in his angle and he grinned when Stephanos let loose a loud throaty moan, his eyes rolling shut as his toes curled.

"Yes...by the Gods...yes," Stephanos gasped when his soldier began to pick up speed. Beagán's earlier words seemed to echo around them and the blond arched at the sensation.

Beagán could see that Stephanos was again close and, while his eyes remained screwed shut against his pleasure, the imp repeated his whispered words.

He placed a hand against his heart, just over the place he'd nearly sunk a knife into only a few days before. Slowly a small rich blue white ball of light slid down into his hand.

He raised his head to look down at Stephanos's brightly glowing skin.

"Steph…," he whispered into the panting blond's ear. Stephanos's back bowed upward as he let out a long loud cry when Beagán press the glowing ball of light into his chest.

The young artist held tight to his monster as the world went dark.

ooooooo

The world came back online in an instant.

The morning mist still clung to the clover that littered the forest floor.

The bright patches of green illuminated by pockets of sunlight through the dense brush left a shimmering trail away from the blond.

Slowly he stood, only slightly dizzy. The dew clung to the hairs on his arms and he looked at his arm twice before he noticed the extra muscle. Touching his stomach he gawked at the rows of abs.

"I feel taller," he whispered.

ooooo

Authors Note:

Swain - A male admirer or lover.

Abettor - A person who supports and aids wrongdoing.

Solis (Sou - Liis) - Latin for Sunlight

Seelenverwandte (Zeel-fu-banter) - German for Soul Mate

Dodger Blue - I was trying to find new adjectives to describe the color of CE's eyes and I found this term on Bing.


End file.
